This is a story I have been writing. Feel free to constructively critisize. But keep in mind, I'm only 15. Don't be a dick, but go ahead and point out any flaws you see.
Connor swung his hammer, stricking the hot metal on the anvil with a loud clang.
"Good," said his master, the town blacksmith, Erolon, "Very nice hit. You see how the metal shapes to your will? You were born to be a smith."
"Yes, sir." grunted Connor in replie.
Connor was the smiths apprentice. And, he had always wanted to be. When he was young his mother would often find him in Erolon's forge, listing to the smith's stories, gazing at Erolon like a father. Connor didn't know his father. He liked to think his dad was a great hero, off riding the land of evil. Or a wizard, battleing deamons trying to break into this plane.
He struck again, shaping the metal into a U-shape. He was making a horseshoe, for one of the farmers. He struck, and struck, plunging it into cold water to cool when the need was there. He soon finished. Erolon held it up to investigate. When he did Connor noticed a scar on his forearm. Conner had never seen it before, because Erolon wore leather on his arms, to prevent getting burnt.
"What gave you that, master?" Connor said pointing.
Erolon looked at where Conner was pointing and, eyes dark, covored it quickly. "It's a mere nothing, lad. This is a fine horseshoe. As a reward the rest of the day is yours to do what you will, But not in here. Now, out you go."
"But...."
"No, no buts. Get on now. I hear Kimil was asking about you."
"She's in town?" Connor asked.
"Yes, but not for long. Now go!"
Connor dashed out the reed door, and turning right, ran down to the tavern. The Bloated Traveler is a moderatly well kept inn. And the hub of all activity in the town of Capem. If Kimil was in town he would find her there. As he approached the door, he herd a drunk yelling,
"Hey, preddy liddle girl, come here and sit on my lap." These words came along with a corus of laughter. It was probally Bumis, he's always starting trouble. Connor thought. Only this time it was different. And, unknowing to Connor, was going to change the whole village.
* * * * * * *
"Get your fithy hand off me," A girl screamed "your a. . . pig!"
"Now that's no way for a nice young thing like you to say," said a strange voice, one that Connor had never heard. " young girls are supposed to be respectful" When he said "respectful" he smacked her across the face, hard. She fell, and lay sprawled on the floor. The man rose. "Now, you get up and appologize to Mr. Bumis here."
"Get fucked." was all she replied.
His fist rose, and he shot it forward at her face. She closed her eyes tight, and waited for the blow. But, it never came. She opened her eyes to see the mans fist, merely inches from her face, stoped and being held by Connors large hand.
"What's going on here, stranger?" Connor asked.
"This wench was being rude to my partner, so i decided to give her a little punishment."
"Well, first off, we dont hit girls around here." Connor said as he thought, what the hell has Bumis gotten himself into?
The mans eyes darkend, and it seemed the whole room did, and he said. "Well, boy, where I come from we dont touch those of more power that ourselves, especialy if we dont know them."
"Oh? And, I'm sure you also mate with pigs, and walk backwards. Now begone before I beat some sence into you." Connor said with a smirk.
The man smiled and closed his eyes. Connor suddenly fell to the ground and writhed in the most intence pain he had ever known. It was worse than when he sliped and his hand plunged into the forge. It was like someone took a barbed dagger and rotated it in his head. Then, as suddenly as it began, it stoped.
"That is just a sample of what I can do, boy." He said as he walked to the door. "Mr. Bumis, we will be in contace."
Bumis just belched in return. The man left and Kimil ran to him. She pulled his head into her lap and said.
"Thank you, Connor. I was so scared."
He looked into her eyes and everything faded to black.
* * * * * * *
"Connor? Connor? Rebecca, come quick i think he is waking!"
Connor's head was pounding. He tried to sit up, but rough hands pushed down on his bare chest.
"Oh no you don't, you stay right there. Don't move or it will only get worse."
He recognized the voice of Rebecca, the town healer. He calmed down and, with eyes closed, he took stock of his surroundings. He could hear the crackle of the fire, smell the drying herbs. He could feel the rough wool on his back, scratching him. Sounds of people came from outside the door.
"The whole towns in an uproar, you know?" said Rebecca, "They say you caused quite a stir at the inn."
"Oh aye," said a girl, who Connor knew to be April, the grandaughter, and apprentice, of Rebecca. "I heard he did it because the man was trying to hurt Kimil. He must really love her."
"He probably dose, though he'd never admit it. He's just a young one."
Rebecca was working some leaves into a plup as they spoke. Then, adding water, she walked over and put the bowl to Connor's lips.
"Drink up, lad, it'll be alright," She said gently "How are you feeling?"
"Ugh, my head," moaned Connor. "What happened?"
"You stoped that man from hurting Kimil," April explained to him, "Don't you remeber?"
"I don't remeber anything."
In fact, Connor could remeber everything. Clearly. He saw that the sun was just rising out the window. I must have slept through the night, he thought.
"Wha- What day is it?" He asked.
"It is friday, lad," replied Rebecca.
"But that means-" He began, looking astonished.
"Yes, you have been out for three days."
This is crazy, he thought. Well, I have to get home.
"I must go home now, Rebecca, but thank you for everything."
"Are you sure you can make it, lad?" She asked caringly.
"Yeah. . . I'm fine. Thanks"
"Well. . . if your sure, then go out the back door, we don't want that mob outside buggering you."
"Yeah, okay," He said, it was a good idea after all. "Thanks for everything."
April cracked the back door open a bit and, after checking for people waiting , slipped out and started off towards his fathers farm. His father was one of the two big farmers that supplied the town with crop.
"There you are!" a girl called from the woods lining the path he was on. It was Kimil. She steped out and rushed to him. "I've been waiting for you."
"Why didn't you wait outside Rebecca's like everyone else?"
"Because, if I had, then I wouldn't have know you left at all."
Smart move, he thought. "True, true." he said aloud.
"Thank you, Connor. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." She said, and followed that with a quick kiss on his cheek.
Blushing, he said "Oh. . . Ah . . it was nothing, really."
"Ha, nothing? You were unconsious for three days because of me."
"Oh that reminds me, did he ever comebock." Connor asked.
"No, we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since."
They walked down the path in silence for a while. He saw a flower, a red tulip, on the ground and bent to pick it up. Then just continued walking with it. He suddenly turned to Kimil and kissed her, she was so shocked she didn't have time to respond. Then he put the tulip in her long black hair.
"Connor. . ." She started, but he interuped with a kiss. This time she kissed back.
At this point they were in front of his house, and from the window they heard.
"Oh, Connor is kissing a girl!!" It was his little brother, Eric.
"What! Connor's home?" He heard his mothers shrill voice.
"Good, he has to tell us what has happened." His father boomed.
He turned to Kimil, and gently kissing her again, said, "Go, before they catch us."
She turned and took off at a trot south. When he got inside his father was waiting at the table, with a tankard of ale in his hand. His mother was pouring the last of the food into a bowl for him.
"Here," She said handing it to him, "you must be famished."
"He can eat after he tells me this story." said his father.
And so Connor sat down and, in front of his parents and a wide eyed brother, begun to spin his tale.
* * * * * * *
"Ah. . . so you rose is defence of those weaker than yourself? That was stupid, and brash. But, honorable, and brave," said Connor's father. "Be sure you know your opponent next time. Don't go rushing off into a battle you don't know you will win."
"Yes, father," replied Connor, "Father, do you know who that man was?"
"No, my boy. None of us do. Bumis has dissapeared, nobody was able to talk to him."
Connor thought that was strange, what could that man want with Bumis? Bumis is just a drunk, a nobody. Strange that of all the people in town, they chose him. What does he have that is so special? Oh well, it was somthing he could ponder fishing with his friend, Jason, in a few days. But tonight, He was off to bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. That night, for the first night since the incident at the inn, he had a dream. He was walking down the same road as just a bit ago, but things were different. He had changed. He was limping, his leg driping blood from a cut on his thigh. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his bare chest was stained with blood. He was holding the hammer he was useing in the shop that day, only it was driping with blood, and there were bits of gore and brain on it. His lungs were sucking in air, but it was full of ash. The forest all around him was blazing, making it look like the very sky was on fire. He was struggleing to move faster but it was like time slowed and it seemed as him home was miles away. He could see the thatched roof, it was on fire. Suddely time was resumed and strength flooded into his limbs. He had to save his family. He began running, or as close as he could to running. He took a shortcut across the pasture to his right. When he got to the fence that went up the side of the lane, he vaulted it, and ran towards the house. Just as he got close, he saw two horses, one mounted by a hooded figure, the other emptie. Another hooded figure, obviously a man, emerged from the house. They wore all white robes with white hoods. The mans robes were covered in blood. The blood of his family. He raised his arm and threw the hammer. It flew end-over-end to smash into the horses head. The man looked at Connor, and spoke a few words. Connor was a mere twenty yards away, but the words spoken made the air compact into a shimmering wall, and slammed into Connor. He flew back a hundred feet or more, and landed on his shoulder, dislocating it, before bouncing to a halt. He tried to push himself up, but his shoulder screamed in pain. He craned his neck and saw them galloping right towards him. They both stoped, and looked at him. Their hoods shadowed up upperhalf of their faces, but he could clearly make out there eyes. They were purple, like islands of amethyst in a sea of darkness. They looked at him and he at them. And, he could feel their pitty for him. Then the eyes closed and the air forms a spear. As sharp as any metal, and it flew at him. Just as it struck his chest, in a bright explosion of energy, he woke. His bed was sokeing in sweat. It was dripping of his head. He moved his arm experimentaly, to make sure his shoulder was okay. He returned to bed, not to dream again.
* * * * * * *
"Hey, Connor, you in there buddie?" laughed Jason. They were sitting in a small rowboat, in the middle of the lake on Jason's father's land. A few days had passed since the dream. He hadn't told anyone.
"Wha-, yeah I'm all here." Connor replied chuckling. But he wasn't "all there." In fact, he was in the lane to his house, staring into those eyes. Eyes like portals into anouther demension.
Suddenly, Jason's fishing pole jerked. "Oh! I got one!" He shouted.
"Well go on, pull it in, pull it in." Connor encouraged him. He grabed Jasons string to help pull it in. It was a big river bounter. They hauled it up and started off twards the shore. It was flopping in the boat, makeing it shake. The threw it out and then Connor's dad was walking down the lane. He looked pissed.
* * * * * * *
"Connor!" His father shouted as soon as he saw them. "Get your ass to the over here before I kick it." Connor wondered what the problem could be. He aproached slowly. His fathers face was beat red. The vien poping out of his temple gave Connor warning, for that only happened when his father was really upset. His fist were clenched, and his mucles tight, ready to snap into a fight in an instant. Connor noticed his father had most weight on his back foot, a clear sign that he was ready to send a kick. How Connor knew this, eluded his mind. He just knew. Even though the closest to violence he had ever come was at the inn, and hitting hot metal at the forge. But, he knew, and adjusted so his left side was close to his father. In order to, if he needed, bring his right around in a hook shot.
"What is it, father" Connor said, "what brings you here like this?" He saw his father glance about, as if looking for listeners.
"Follow me, boy." He followed his father down the path, signaling to Jason that it was fine. When Connor excpeted his father to turn and say somthing. They just kept walking. They passed the stream that signaled that they passed from Jason's dad's land into their own. Yet still they walked on.
"Father?" Connor tried. But to no avail. Finaly, when they came across a stump with his initials carved in it, did his father turn and say something.
"Son," He started, but he didn't finish that sentance, because he started chokeing.
"Cough. . . cough, cough. . ." He doubled over and spat out some flem. When he stood, his eyes. They weren't his eye. They were purple. Amethyst, one could say.
"Boy," said the voice of the stranger, through his father, "You have seen. And, now you have a choise. Join us, or die. You know our power. We will destroy you, your friends, and your family. We will contact you with instructions that, if not followed, will get everything you love destroyed."
"Wha-" Connor started, but was cut off by another coughing fit by his father. When he was done, he was himself again. And he was calmed, back in his normal stance.
"Oh, my head," He mumbled, "What happend?"
"Father, I have to leave," Connor whispered, "Now."
* * * * * * *
"Connor, wait!" His father shouted. Connor was running towards the house. He had to get out of there. Before they found him, and made him into one of them. He just wanted to be a blacksmith, nothing more. A simple life. But, that man had to come and ruin it all.
"I have to leave, Father," Connor yelled back, "Before I put you all in danger."
"Connor!" His father was struggleing to keep up. "Please, son, what is going on?" His father was a heavy man, and Connor soon outran him.
When Connor got to his house, he was the only one there. Mother must have taken Eric on a walk, he thought. He grabed a cloth sack and started putting food in it. He grabed bread, a hunk of cheese, some potatos, a leek, and a flask of the alcohol he knew his father had hidden in the floorboards. The illeagle kind. He took up his walking stick, and a knife he found and hid when he was younger. The blade was as long as his hand, from the tip of his finger to the base of his hand. It's hilt is made of the antlers of a deer.
He set off to the west. He knew of a cave there, with a fresh spring bubbleing out inside. He would hide there for now. Just as he reached the forest, his father came out of it on the other side of the field. Connor quickly plunged into the forest and found the game trail to the cave. As he walked, his mind wandered to Kimil. What would she think about him running away like this? Surely she would call him a coward. She would not want to see me anymore, he thought.
The woods were full of life, at this hour. It wasn't quite midday yet and the sun was shining. In all respects, it was a good day. He heard the bubbling of the stream before he saw it. But, when he got to the cave, he found it inhabited by somthing. Something that was not happy to see him.
* * * * * * *
Connor had never seen this large of a beast before. All he could see was the silohette, and it was massive. Larger then a pair of hourses combined. It roared, and lumbered out into the sun. It was a huge, angry, bear. Its fut was dark red. Like blood on a white cloth. It's gaping maw was full of razor sharp teeth. It's claws scraped against the stones around the cave mouth. It looked at Connor once, reared up on it's hind legs, roared, and charged him. It came fast, and snarling. He only just had time to throw himself to the side before it reached him. It flew past, claws missing Connor by just inches. He rose, drawing his knife, and discarding the rest of his gear on the ground. He did't know why, but he knew he would have to be light, and fast. The bear prepared to charge him, but this time he was ready. Doing what the beast wouldn't expect, he took two running steps towards it, then leaped up, spinning in midair, right over it. He came down and rolled to distrubute his weight. How did I do that, he asked himself, where is this knowledge coming from? The bear looked back at him, and with a pedetorious growl, charged at him again.
"Oh, shit!" He shouted as he went to dodge to the left, but triped on a rock sticking out of the ground, and lay on his stomach. He quickly rolled over, and tried to get up, but the moster was to close. He backed away on his back. The bear advanced slowly. It was standing right on top of him now. Its leg came down on his right are. The one with the knife. Connor knew it was over.
"Come on then!" he shouted into the bears face. It's breath was putrid, "Just end me, kill me already!" The bear looked into his eyes, and he into it's. For a moment it seemed like time had stoped. They stared into each others eyes for a minute, then three, then seven. Finally the bear steped off him, back away slowly, then turned and walked away.
* * * * * * *
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Topic: A story I wrote. I dont a title for it yet. But you should read it. (Read 569 times)